


In Treatment

by collidewithskies



Category: Glee
Genre: Blangst, Depressed Blaine, Homophobic Language, Klaine, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 21:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6771523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collidewithskies/pseuds/collidewithskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Blaine and Kurt told through Blaine's visit to his therapist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> Got the idea for this after watching the show In Treatment and decided to roll with it. Also, I suck at summaries so I'm sorry about that.

_"Well, right now it seems that things are going very badly for me, have been doing so for some considerable time, and may continue to do so well into the future. But it is possible that everything will get better after it has all seemed to go wrong. I am not counting on it, it may never happen, but if there should be a change for the better I should regard that as a gain, I should rejoice, I should say, at last! So there was something after all!"  
-Vincent van Gogh, 1853-1890 _

 

  

* * *

 

 

  I slowly walk up the large house of my therapist. My father found one that does sessions inside their house, thinking it would a better environment for me then some office. That wasn't the factor I had been fearing but I appreciated the sentiment. I knock on the door in a very complex manner, waiting for Markus to answer it. His house is huge, and it should be, for the amount my parents pay him. When he finally opens the door I flash him my award winning smile.

“Come in Blaine, you know the routine.” I nod my head absentmindedly while making my way towards his living room.

“How are the kids, Markus?” I say upon seeing a new drawing added to the fridge. Markus quickly ushers me past the kitchen. We had been doing this for a year now, we both knew how to push the others buttons but I was the only one who ever tried. That may just be because I need to know how people react when I hit a nerve. It's easier to determine what people are like when you have seem them mad. Anger is the kind of emotion that can say a lot about people. Knowing how people explode is good because then you can learn how to defend yourself from another explosion. You can't expect to chase a storm successfully if you don't how they work. “Yeah, yeah, you don’t talk about your kids, I know.” I say while laughing lightly. Markus only shakes his head in reply. “I think I finally found my favorite coffee order. After sifting through item after item, I have found the pot of gold.” I carry on, trying to fill the empty silence.

“It only took you two months.” Markus’ laughs as he finds his seat.

“Yes well, you’d take that long too if you saw some of the items on that menu. I mean who even thinks about that stuff? And who even _authorizes_ it. Anyways, I have found a nice mix with a medium drip.” I throw my bag on the ground and sit down lazily on the couch across from him.

“Are you going to try any of the others?”

“No, I already tried all the exotic sounding ones. Medium drip was the first normal one I tried and I’m so tired of bad coffee. So, so, so tired, Markus. I was thinking I would never drink good coffee again and in result be forced to live as a delinquent. Not to mention Wes was getting very irritated with me and that’s never a good thing. That boy loves every and all coffee.” We both know I’m rambling now, delaying the inevitable session.

“So Blaine, how was your week?” Markus says as he brings up his leg to rest on his knee.

I sigh and shrug my shoulders. I lean back into the couch more. “I met a boy yesterday,” I say, tongue flicking over my lips quickly. I avoid eye contact with him. It’s not that I haven’t told him I was gay, more so that I’m never sure how people are going to react. Caution had been beaten into me, quite literally. I see him tilt his head slightly at the words. I tap my fists together, giving myself something to focus on. “I met him on the staircase while trying to make it to Warbler practice on time. Which, I’ll add, I was just on time for. I'd hate to think of what David would of done if I was late again. Anyways, he was wearing this blazer that was so not ours. I don’t even think it was the right color.” I laugh lightly at the memory. “I dragged him into rehearsal room and he watched as we sang Teenage Dream.”

“The song by Katy Perry that you guys have been working on?” I nod my head. “And this boy, what’s his name?”

“Kurt. After rehearsal Wes, David and I took him out to the coffee shop. It was endearing that he tried so hard to be a spy.”

“Was he that bad?” I let out another laugh.

“Not only was he wearing the wrong blazer, but he didn’t even pretend to know who the Warblers are.”

“And who are the Warblers, Blaine?” Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Markus smile. He knows every detail about the Warblers, he just likes to humor me.

“Basically rock stars. Everyone either wants to be us or be friends with us. Anyhow, we were talking to him, and he thought that we were all gay. I mean, what’s the likelihood of all those boys being gay? I wish that was the case, can you imagine?” I shake my head, trying to steer myself back to the topic. “I guess he was just in his own world.”

“Does he have a problem with gay people?” Markus asks softly. I know he’s trying to dance around the subject.

“No. In fact, he’s gay too.” I make eye contact with Markus briefly. “He looked so deathly afraid. His eyes were constantly roaming the room.” My voice goes quiet and my eyes retract to the ground. “You should've seen the look on his face when I told him of Dalton’s zero tolerance policy. Apparently, he’s the only out kid at his school and the local jocks have made it their mission to make his life hell. We exchanged numbers before he left. I texted him ‘COURAGE’.”

“Did hearing his story make you remember yours?” Markus jots something down on the notebook in front of him.

“I never forget mine.” I spit out bitterly. “I told him that I had a similar experience before I came to Dalton and that I regret running away. I told him that prejudice is just ignorance and that he needs to confront Karofsky, his bully, so he knows he can’t get away with it. I told him that he could do what I did and transfer, or he could confront his bully.”

“But Blaine, don’t you think it’s wrong to compare two different situations? And by telling him to confront his bully, you’re putting him in potential danger?” Markus leans forward in his chair.

“Two totally different situations?” I ask, flabbergasted. “He’s being harassed by bullies every day at school! How does that differ from mine! He gets shoved into lockers and dumpsters daily! Not to mention all the slushies he get’s thrown at him!”

“Blaine, your bullies assaulted you constantly. Your daily harassment went further than getting shoved into lockers or thrown into dumpsters. Your bullies weren’t just some kids who think homosexuality is wrong, they used to be your friends. Confronting bullies by yourself is never the correct response, adults are there to help. What happened to you, could happen to him if he confronts them.”

“Stop talking about my story like you know anything about it! You know the basic’s, not the details.” I say with venom lining every word.

“You’ve never given me the details Blaine. I’m just going off of the facts you have given me.” Markus remains calm and it only makes me more infuriated. “You don’t know this bully, he could be dangerous. If Kurt confronts him, Karofsky might lash out and hurt him.”

“But he’ll always regret it if he runs.” I say softly, voice wavering slightly.

“Kurt is _not_ you, Blaine. Maybe he needs to run so that he can protect himself.”

“But if he doesn’t stand up, Karofsky is just going to hurt more people.”

“What makes Kurt so different? Why is he the only person who can stand up to Karofsky?”

“I don’t know! _I don’t know!_ I just know that he can't run. He'll look back and regret it because he let bullies rule his life.”

“Blaine, I think you’re projecting again. You want Kurt to stand up to his bullies the way you were never able to. You want to feel accomplished and live through him. But Blaine, you’re putting Kurt in serious danger. Talk to his parents about it, make the situation known by the adults, if it is not already. If Kurt feels like his safety is being compromised, then do not convince him to face his demons.” I shrug my shoulders and tap my fists together faster. I know he’s right but I also know that Kurt _will_ regret it if he leaves now. He’s strong. Right now, he’s just too scared to stand up for himself. If he doesn't stand up then he's just letting Karofsky know that he can get away with it. That no one is going to fight back.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes. Markus is the one who breaks the silence. “Blaine? Do you feel up for discussing the attack that put you in the hospital? I believe it would be beneficial for you to talk about it. Articulate your feelings so I can help you differentiate your feelings on his situation from your feelings for yours.” My fists hover in mid air, not connecting as I mull over the words he says. He must notice my hesitation because he continues, “you don't have to Blaine. I'm not going to force you but I do recommend it.”

“I, I was fourteen when I first came out.” I say slowly, tasting the words as they come out. They leave a sour taste in my mouth. “First year of high school. First year of the time that's supposed to be the best years of my life.” I laugh bitterly. “I had been debating all summer on whether or not I should come out to my friends. Jordan was my closest friend. He was the first person I told. It was October. I had come over to his house after school to work on homework together. We were both in advanced classes and it was easier to work on some subjects together.” I try to ground myself here by crossing my arms and digging my nails into my arms. Markus seems to notice this as he's giving me this concerned glance. “I just blurted it out while we were working on this math problem. I hadn't meant to. It was just bugging me and the words tumbled out before I could stop them, I hadn't meant to just spring it on him. I think that was the problem, if I had just planned it out better it wouldn't of gone down so badly.” But I know that's a lie. Any way I could have told him would of gone down the same exact path. But I still can't easily think of Jordan as a bad person. It's easier to blame myself for the way things went down.

“Blaine? What happened?” He’s trying to steer me back on course but his voice is distant and I want to vomit.

“He just looked at me for a couple seconds. I was stupid enough to take that as a good sign. I should've realized that it wouldn't go well. His parents were extremely religious. I reached out to grab his arm, I don't know, maybe to demand a response but he shifted away from my touch. He just looked at me for a couple seconds before he spoke. ‘My dad wouldn't want a fag in the house. And coming to think of it, neither do I.’ God. I didn't know what to do. I just started scrambling to get my stuff together. He followed me when I started walking to the door. I turned around to say goodbye. I knew it was going to be the last time I ever saw him like that. As friends. What I wasn't expecting was a fist to connect with my face and for him to shove me down the steps.” I hear Markus inhale sharply but it still feels distant. “‘Stay away from me, I don't want to catch your sickness,’ he said to me before slamming the door. My dad wasn't planning on picking me up for another couple of hours and I hadn't brought my cellphone with me. My dad didn't want me using it at school. Didn't want anything to distract me from learning. It would've been okay to walk home I think, but it started raining. I arrived home, drenched, just as my dad was leaving to pick me up. He quickly pulled back into the garage and ushered me into the house. When he asked me what had happened, I don't know, I guess I figured I couldn't keep it a secret anymore. I told him Jordan had kicked me out because I was gay. He immediately retracted his hands from my shoulders. Twice in one day someone hadn't wanted to touch me as soon as they found out I was gay but that one hurt more. My own _father_ didn't want to touch me.”

“What did he do after you told him?” Markus asks but I ignore him.

“Needless to say, the next day came and I went to school. Only, I found myself friendless. And everyone made it their personal vendetta to make my life hell. I was shoved into lockers, thrown into dumpsters, pushed down stairs, flat out punched, and of course the harsh words were constantly thrown at me. It was so bad. I would come home with bruises constantly. I never wanted to go to school and it was hell and they kept telling me to kill myself and rid the world of my wrongness and…” I trail off, unable to voice the words anymore. I want to tell him that I wanted to kill myself. That I had thought about it every night. But I know that would only cause him to worry. And I know that I'd never do it now. So what's the point in making him worry about something that's no longer an issue? My nails have drawn blood to the surface of my skin. I angrily blink back the tears that threaten to spill out.

“Blaine? I,” Markus starts but pauses, voice soft likes he's talking to a frightened animal, “you can stop if you need to. We can continue this in a different session.” I want to look up and talk to him but my ability to form words seems to have left me. I merely stare at my legs and tighten my grip more. Markus still feels distant, his voice sounds as if I heard it from miles away. I screw my eyes shut, trying to block out the sensation of hands grasping me roughly but it only disassociates me more.

When I open my eyes again, Markus has moved from his chair. I can faintly hear a conversation going on but I just stare, absentmindedly, at the coffee table. When he enters my frame of vision, my mother is following closely behind him. Markus crouches down in front of me and I see his lips move but I hear no sound. He reaches out to touch me and I shy away from him. My mother looks exasperated as she stands behind him, arms crossed lazily as if everything she could be doing right now would be more important than this.

The next time Markus reaches out to touch me, he does not give up. He gets his hand around my arm and it throws me back into the memories.

“Stop! Stop! Please! Don’t touch me! Not now, please, not right now.” I squeeze out, voice barely intelligible. The weight on my arm immediately leaves. This time when Markus speaks, I can hear him.

‘Your mother is going to take you back to the dorms, okay Blaine? We’ll have another session next week. Take your meds when you get home and get some rest.” I nod my head quickly. This wasn't the first time something like this has happened, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. We had made a plan for whenever these episodes would happen.

“Come on Blaine, I have a dinner party to get ready for. I took a cab here so I’ll need the keys to your car.” My mother holds her hand out expectantly. I clumsily reach down to my backpack and take out my keys and give them to her. When I stand up, my body feels sluggish and heavy and I can’t wait until I get home so I can sleep this all off.

The ride to Dalton is quick and I take the pills as soon as I can. I lay down on my bed, still fully clothed in my Dalton clothes. Trent isn’t in our room and I’m glad. I didn’t want to have to explain myself right now. I pull my covers on top of myself and throw a pillow over my head. I hear my phone buzz a couple of times in my backpack that is resting by the side of my bed but I only ignore it.

I take deep breathes as I feel the Ativan and Haloperidol start to work. I know I’ll be out of commission for the next day. But as I start to fall asleep and the phantom hands stop gripping me, I can’t find it in me to care.


End file.
